Tahoe Skydrop (An Owen McKenna Mystery Thriller Book 16)

by Todd Borg

  We were of course flummoxed.

  “Here’s a clue,” Ignatius said. “Imagine that Mr. Hellman has ridden his horse up the mountain to Stone Lodge. He reaches into his pocket for the key to the door only to discover that he left it down at the lake.” Ignatius pointed at the lodge’s front door. “As you can see, the door is heavy planks of wood, much too sturdy to force open. Either you’d have to break in a window or consider your trip a loss.”

  “So the Ahab backup was a spare key?” I said.

  Ignatius shook his head. “Consider the scope of the character of Captain Ahab. His mission was huge. Life or death. If Ahab had been searching for a bee that stung him instead of a whale that bit off his leg, then Mr. Hellman might have conceived of hiding a spare key. But Captain Ahab was sailing the world looking to kill the giant whale that maimed him! That kind of scope would suggest that Mr. Hellman’s backup was something grand!”

  At this, my friend and I were bouncing on our toes. Mr. Hellman’s Always Have A Backup concept would have to be very exciting. Something extraordinary.

  So we walked over and started looking at Stone Lodge very closely. Its doors and windows and the actual stone walls. My friend even stared up at the roof.

  But after a long search, we had no ideas.

  “Do you give up?” Ignatius asked.

  “Yes, yes,” we said.

  At that, Ignatius walked over to the wall of the lodge and pointed at one of the windows.

  The windows had wooden frames set in the stone wall. All the windows in the lodge had panels of cedar shakes above and beneath the window frames. It was an architectural element to make them stand out from the stone wall. Ignatius motioned us over to one of the windows. With a grand, sweeping gesture like that of a magician, he reached under the window and moved some kind of hidden catch and then pulled out on the cedar shakes below the window.

  The cedar shakes swung out all together. They were the covering on a small door!

  Ignatius bent over, and stepped under the door as if he were Alice in Wonderland going through the Looking Glass. He seemed to disappear.

  My friend and I followed and found ourselves in the living room of the stone house! As Ignatius witnessed our amazement, he made the largest grin. I’ll never forget it. He showed us how the inside of the door blended into the woodwork of the living room wall. Then he ushered us back outside and reminded us we were never to tell a soul.

  I thought about the implications suggested by a house Yardley had bought but that no one in the company besides Yardley seemed to know about. His wife Lucy had told me Yardley often disappeared for hours at a time.

  My guess was that Stone Lodge may have been Yardley LaMotte’s personal hideaway just as it had been for Isaiah Hellman. The lodge would provide great privacy even as it perched on the end of a ridge and had a great view of the lake and surrounding mountains.

  I decided to see if I could find Stone Lodge.

  I got out my topographical maps of the Tahoe Basin. Comparing the Google satellite picture to the topo map, I was able to find the Stone Lodge’s likely location on my paper map. By studying the topo lines, which are areas of equal elevations, I could see how steep or shallow the nearby slopes were. It seemed that there was another Forest Service trail a good distance away from the Granlibakken neighborhood. The trail came off the Ward Creek Canyon, a valley where Ward Creek flowed out of the base of Alpine Meadows ski resort. I could park near there, walk up the trail, then bushwhack up the ridge below the house.

  Before I left for Stone Lodge, which required another trip around the lake, I wondered if I should detour through Reno and see if I could learn something about Anders Henriksson, the investor/lender who provided financing for Yardley.

  William Lindholm had said that Anders’ company was Reno Discovery Group. I looked up the number and dialed. A man answered.

  “Reno Discovery, Robert speaking.”

  “Hello. My name is Owen McKenna. I’m an investigator looking into a missing persons case involving a man named Yardley LaMotte. I understand that Anders Henriksson made a substantial investment in Mr. LaMotte’s company before Mr. Henriksson died. I wonder if I could…”

  “Whoa, Mr. McKenna. Slow down, please. Anders Henriksson didn’t die.”

  “I’m sorry. Maybe I have the names switched. I thought Anders was the one who died. Is Anders the brother?”

  “Anders is alive and well. And he has no brother.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  Rarely am I surprised such that I don’t know what to say. But hearing that Anders Henriksson was alive and had no brother required me to take a moment to regroup my thoughts.

  “Just to be sure I’m calling the right place, this is Anders Henriksson’s company, right? Reno Discovery Group?”

  “Yes. Anders is having a cup of coffee and talking on the phone in his office as we speak. Where this rumor about him dying came from is a mystery. But it’s not true.”

  “Perhaps I could speak to Anders,” I said.

  “Let me look. He’s got a full appointment schedule today.”

  “He also has a two million dollar stake in Yardley LaMotte’s Tahoe Robotics,” I said, “and I believe he made a personal loan to Yardley for an additional two million dollars. Both the loan and the Tahoe Robotics stock are being appropriated by an unknown man posing as Henriksson’s brother. Anders may want to reschedule his appointments.”

  “Hold on, please.”

  I held for a minute or so.

  “Hello, this is Anders Henriksson.”

  The accent was very slight. I guessed it as Swedish. Although, had I not known his name, I might not have made such a guess.

  “Thanks for taking my call.” I reiterated what I’d heard to Anders.

  “You have talked to this man who claims to be my brother?”

  “No. As far as I know, the only person who has spoken to him is Yardley, and he went missing three days ago.”

  “I’ve been meaning to call Yardley ever since I heard this rumor. But I’ve been overscheduled, and I haven’t had a chance. My mistake not to have made time. How can I help?”

  “I’d like to meet and talk. I originally came to this matter on a separate investigation. But I’ve come to realize that my other case is connected to Yardley’s disappearance. I’d also like Yardley’s wife and his other investor to meet with us. I believe you know the other man, William Lindholm.”

  “Yes. A good man. Very cutthroat in business. But honest.”

  “When could you be available? Sooner is better.”

  He paused. “Actually, any time today would be good.”

  “Okay. I’ll call the others and try to set something up. Then I’ll get back to you.”

  We said goodbye.

  I got busy on the phone and found a time mutually agreeable to the others. The meeting was scheduled for 2 p.m. that afternoon at Lucy LaMotte’s house.

  Lucy was astonished to learn that Anders Henriksson hadn’t died, and that Yardley had been taken in by an imposter. I told her that she’d be able to clear up any confusion when she met Anders.

  “Hey, Largeness,” I said. Spot had been sleeping. Or at least pretending to sleep. He didn’t raise his head, but he turned his ears. It always reminded me of those radar antennas turning above the bridge of a ship. Except a radar antenna never comes with a faux diamond stud at its rim. “A ride beckons, dude. I’m happy to go alone if need be.”

  Spot seemed to do an instant levitation to a standing position. I took my binoculars and maps, and we left.

  When I pulled up to the LaMotte house, William Lindholm’s polished black Volvo was out front. As I got out of the Jeep, a silver Audi pulled up and parked nearby in the street. A man got out. He wore a gray suit with a navy pinstripe, and shiny black, pointy shoes that probably cost more than a season pass at Squaw Valley ski resort. Anders’ shirt was crisp white and open at the collar. His hair was a shock of red and combed back in a dramatic wave. His appearance, from cl
othes to hair, was nearly the opposite of my jeans and cotton shirt and hiking boots.

  “Mr. Henriksson?” I said. “Owen McKenna. Thank you for coming.”

  “Happy to clear up this business of me being dead.”

  We walked together up to the door. Lucy let us in. I introduced her to Anders.

  Lucy walked into the living room where her mother Emily Taylor was sitting on the couch holding a cup. Next to her, sitting quite close, was William Lindholm, closer, I thought, than casual acquaintances would sit. A teapot and two other cups sat on the table.

  “Hello, Ms. Taylor, Mr. Lindholm,” I said. “Emily, this is Anders Henriksson. Bill, you and Anders know each other.”

  Anders shook hands all around. He was polite but clearly frustrated with social niceties. He telegraphed a strong vibe that life was short and he had important things to do. Having to explain that he was in fact alive pushed his frustration to a high level.

  Anders sat on a chair at right angles to the couch where Emily Taylor and Bill Lindholm sat. I sat opposite Anders. Lucy pulled up a dining chair.

  After a bit of small talk, I said, “I know you all have busy schedules, so let’s get to why I asked you here. As we all know, Yardley LaMotte has gone missing under unusual circumstances. It was not long after he’d been contacted by someone who claimed to be the brother of Anders Henriksson. The supposed brother, whose name none of us knows, told Yardley that Anders was recently deceased, and that he was Anders’ heir and had inherited Anders’ stake in Tahoe Robotics. Further, he was calling in the loan that you, Anders, had made to Yardley. Now that we know that you’re not dead, we have to wonder what the mystery man said to Yardley about your supposed death. Whatever it was, it was convincing enough that Yardley didn’t think to call your company and double check.”

  I turned to Anders and continued, “The only explanation I can think of would seem to be that the mystery man knew the details of your stock investment and the personal loan you made to Yardley. If those details were accurate and specific enough, that might have been convincing to Yardley. It would seem that those details could only come from someone in your investment company, Reno Discovery, or someone at Yardley’s company, Tahoe Robotics. What is your thought, Anders?”

  Anders’ face seemed to redden. “The people at my company don’t know much about my dealings with Yardley. Yes, I have the paperwork in a file. And I may have made a few comments here or there. But while I expect my employees to discuss all of their decisions with me, I don’t talk much about decisions I make. None of my people would know enough about my dealings with Yardley to convince him I was dead.”

  I turned to Lucy. “Lucy, what about Tahoe Robotics? Would the kind of information necessary to fool Yardley be found at the Tahoe Robotics office?”

  “You’re suggesting someone there got information about the loan and the investment and used that to... what? Hire someone to pretend he was Anders’ brother and say that Anders was now dead? And then spin a complicated story about foreclosing on the loan? A story so elaborate that Yardley believed it?” She was vacantly shaking her head. “I suppose it’s possible. But that’s all I can say. It’s supposition. I’ve never seen any of the paperwork on Anders’ and Yardley’s financial relationship. I have no idea of where that paperwork is stored.” She stopped for a moment, thinking, then turning toward me. “Are you seriously thinking someone would go to so much trouble to try to gain title to this house? I can’t believe it. There are so many ways the person could be tripped up, so many details that would have to fall into place before Yardley or I would go to a title company and sign a deed to transfer title on the house. It doesn’t make sense.”

  Bill Lindholm spoke. “I agree. The only believable motivation for a person impersonating Anders’ brother and claiming that Anders was dead, is that the person wanted to gain access to Yardley’s other assets.”

  “You’re referring to Yardley’s business,” I said.

  “Obliquely, yes. Let’s call it his intellectual assets. His software. If someone could acquire that, there would be potential value far beyond any house.”

  “Yardley has disappeared,” I said. “Without Yardley, how would this person gain access to the business and all that it represents?”

  “That is a puzzle,” Bill said.

  “Then let’s focus instead on his software,” I said. “How could someone use his software?”

  I saw Bill glance at Lucy. He said, “From what Yardley told me, the software could, like any creative product, basically be stolen. Of course, the creator of any spectacular content is usually critical to its success. But still, a person could start a new company based on the software and possibly do very well. A software engineer would have to rework it to take out the signature hints of the original writer, in other words, plagiarize it while reconfiguring it to make it look like someone else’s work. But I think it could be done. Do you think that’s possible, Lucy?”

  “I wouldn’t know about that,” she said. “Yardley has always said that when he looks at old code, he can tell if he wrote it or not. So the style thing could be a problem. I know literature better. If you found a long-lost Hemingway manuscript and wanted to pass it off as your own, you couldn’t. You’d have to completely rewrite it. Otherwise, it would only take one or two unaltered paragraphs for people to get suspicious and think it was originally written by Hemingway. Style is a significant component of a creative product.”

  Bill said, “Then the software would ideally be used in some way that it was out of view from any prying eyes. Especially anyone who knew Yardley’s coding characteristics.”

  “Nevertheless, the software in essence, even reworked, could be very valuable,” I said.

  “Absolutely,” Bill said. “We sometimes hear about a movie or a novel that is the subject of a copyright infringement lawsuit. Novels can be worth money. Movies much more. But software? Look at how much the big software companies are worth. Google or Facebook or Microsoft. Even Amazon and Apple, with their hardward and distribution facilities, are still, largely, software companies.”

  “So let’s assume the real goal of the mystery man was to steal Yardley’s robotics software,” I said. “How much do you think it could be worth?”

  Anders spoke up. “Yardley told me he thought it was worth a billion dollars. Is that wild exaggeration? Is it even possible? There’s no way to know. But the most successful software companies are worth hundreds of billions.”

  “Let’s say I figured out how to steal Yardley’s software,” I said. “What would I do with it? Would I build robots with it? I don’t know the first thing about robots. Or does this innovative software have other characteristics such that it could be used for more than robots?”

  Bill shook his head, Anders frowned, and Lucy looked very sad.

  It was Lucy’s mother Emily Taylor who spoke up. “Yardley told me that the structure of his algorithms was very elegant. He felt that elegance was the essence of his business. Maybe my thought is just a crazy idea from a Baby Boomer who doesn’t have a clue about tech. But perhaps someone could steal that elegance, so to speak.”

  “Mother, you never told me this. How could you know this kind of thing and never mention it?”

  “You never asked. To get along in this household, one needs to be seen, not heard. Actually, that’s not true. One needs to be neither seen nor heard. Except by Yardley. He listened to me.”

  Lucy looked like she’d been slapped in the face.

  “Did Yardley say anything else about that elegance?” I asked.

  “Not that I recall,” Emily said.

  “Did Yardley give you any kind of idea about what another party would do with his software if they wanted to steal its value?”

  Emily made a slow, single shake of her head. “No. We just talked about how beauty can be found anywhere. In nature or art, of course, but also in the mathematical patterns in music. Yardley was interested in fractal patterns in nature, and he said he saw fractal patt
erns in his software as well. We never talked about such a thing as stealing software. I didn’t know that was even done.”

  “Mother, have I been living in a different house? You make it sound like you have an entire secret relationship with Yardley.”

  “Someone has to be an audience for geniuses, dear. They are special. They need a sounding board, someone who will listen and then nod and smile at the appropriate moments. I could tell from the beginning that you weren’t going to serve in that function. So I’ve tried to be useful.”

  Lucy turned red. I couldn’t tell if her reaction was embarrassment or anger.

  Anders spoke up. “There is a market for anything. If Yardley’s software could be scrubbed of his style to eliminate charges of plagiarism, it could potentially be sold to many different companies.”

  “Or,” Bill said, “a person could start a new company. A rival robotics company. The genius of good, innovative software has huge potential.”

  “So let’s say I steal the software,” I said. “How do I use it? What would be my next move.”

  “First, you’d have to get through the security,” Lucy said. “Yardley has always been a big believer in security. He has a password on his phone and his computers. He told me he even puts password protection on his backups, like hard drives and those little flash drive memory sticks. The movies make it look like breaking passwords is easy. But Yardley says it’s harder than you think. That’s why all these scams use phishing approaches. They try to fool you into thinking they’re someone they’re not so you give them your password. But Yardley says trying to actually figure out a password is hard. So it would be very difficult to use Yardley’s software for the simple reason that you’d have to get his password.”

  “Let’s say, I somehow did that. Maybe I got malware installed on his computer that records his keystrokes. Once I can get into his software, how would I use it? How would I sell it? How would I make contacts in the computer industry or the robotics industry?” I was thinking about the Brotherhood website and the Marketplace page where criminals can anonymously offer their services to each other. But I wanted to see what ideas the others had.